


Uprising

by Kage Kitsune (Kage_Kitsune)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kage_Kitsune/pseuds/Kage%20Kitsune
Summary: A one shot done for Quidditch League.Written for the QLFC, Season 5, Round 2Position: Chaser 2Position Prompt: Location: DurmstrungOptional prompts: 4. (Image)Heart in a cage. . 7. (song) All we know by The Chainsmokers 14. (word) contagiousTitle: UprisingWord Count: 2,565 (word)Beta(s): DinoDina, Aelys Althea, RawMateriel, Vanilla AshesI'M A Wanderer!
Comments: 5
Kudos: 1





	Uprising

The words were huge, easily seen from the entrance, seared into the doors of what had to be the Great Hall in large black scars:

' **Don't touch anything and get out!'**

A small golden birdcage hung from the door handle beneath. What looked to be a wicker heart hanging inside of it burnt.

_What in the…._

Harry reread the words slowly before examining the birdcage. Nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary. Aside from the fact that someone hung a birdcage from a door handle, burnt a wicker heart, and then shoved the heart inside for someone to find later on. Was that common practice in Durmstrang?

_It could be like Voldemort's Dark Mark,_ he thought, a frown forming. Perhaps a burnt heart meant someone was dead. Maybe there was a new dark wizard rising as Kingsley feared.

He gripped the door handle and pulled it open, expecting the worst. Candles danced to life, creating an overall welcoming ambiance despite the cold interior. The walls, the floor, even the tables and the benches beneath them were all made of stone. The only color came from the dark red tapestry behind the head's chair which was situated in the center toward the back of the room on a raised platform.

A quick glance around the room revealed nothing out of the ordinary. No bodies or signs of struggle. As Harry stepped inside he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. When he stopped to take in the room as a whole he noticed why. All of the tables still had food on them just waiting for students to partake. He almost grabbed a piece of fruit, but stopped. What if the warning burned into the door had been about the food? There was no telling how long the food had been there and yet it showed no signs of decay. It looked fresh with no mold. When Harry sniffed the food. It didn't give off any kind of overpowering gut wrenching stench.

_Poisoned?_ He wondered, moving away from the table and its contents. _Why would a dark wizard poison an entire school?_

A full walk around the Great Hall offered no answers. If someone had indeed come in and killed off the entire student body and no doubt some of the staff, Harry could find no signs of it. He didn't think a dark wizard would clean the bodies up; leaving them would be more effective in striking fear than a birdcage with a burned heart inside it.

Sighing, the Auror left the room. The Entrance Hall looked no different. The same two small hallways jutted out on each side with a worn red rug flowing from the front door like rivers of blood. Neither side showed any more promise than the other. Harry began down the left branch. The hallway was narrower than he'd originally thought. The Durmstrang students would only be able to walk three abreast. The end of the hall took a sharp turn to the right. Not far from the turn was an average sized door. No birdcage, no burned words. Harry stepped inside.

The small room was possibly an office of some sort with papers scattered all over the floor and the single table in the room. The only light was from a few flickering candles floating randomly near the ceiling. Harry looked down at the first piece of paper, and frowned as he read it.

**'A few days at most. Dehydration at its worst. No matter how much liquid is given, the results are the same.'**

"Dehydration?" He looked at the other papers; most of them had to do with antidotes and notes about potion ingredients. This was probably their potion master's study. Snape would have been appalled to have such a small room to plan his classes.

He searched a little longer, finding only books and a half finished lesson plan.

He passed back into the hall wondering what kind of potion would cause horrible dehydration. Durmstrang was known for practicing the dark arts. Did burnt wicker hearts in birdcages and dehydration fall under dark magical practice? The note had said: dehydration at its worst. Perhaps the potion they were working on could kill someone.

"Where is everyone?" He let out a small growl in frustration as he reached the end of the next hall. This one broke into four different paths including the one he was on. None of them opened up enough to give him an idea of his surroundings. None of the ceilings went beyond eight feet in height and none of them seemed to have windows. The only light came from the candles sitting in hollowed niches in the stone'. He felt like he was walking through tunnels.

With nothing but his gut to guide him, he started down the hall directly across from the one he'd been in. Halfway down, he found a book bag with the shoulder handle ripped. He bent and emptied its contents onto the floor. A few candy wrappers and some paper fell out. The same message from the first room was scrawled on one of the pieces. The second note was different:

' **The danger is spreading faster than previously thought. Touch nothing'**

Harry straightened and glanced around. There were no signs of a struggle besides the broken bag. Perhaps there was a dark wizard somewhere and people were fighting? That would explain the deserted hallways. What it didn't tell Harry was _where_ they were fighting. None of the claustrophobic halls would be ideal for a fight. They may work to provide a defense though. Could the castle transform its interior to handle threats?

"I should have asked Kingsley or Hermione about this place before coming," he muttered. The only thing he was certain of was that Durmstrang was: cold, enclosed, and most likely had a rising dark wizard hiding within its walls.

He left the book bag and notes where he'd found them and kept walking. Soon enough he reached yet another fork. This one only had two routes: the left one bore another birdcage with the same burned wicker heart inside hanging from the ceiling.

Harry stopped as he walked beneath the birdcage. Unlike the Great Hall, something felt wrong. The hall was no darker than the others, the air just as stale and cold, yet there was something.

It didn't matter. Harry needed to find some kind of real evidence to send back to the Ministry. Just showing them hastily written notes would get him nowhere. While he had seen no one, he could very well have been the one to set off Durmstrang's defensive measures - if that was what these closed halls were.

The corridor turned out to be very long. Harry had no idea where he was anymore and hoped he hadn't been caught in a magical trap. When he finally spied a set of double doors, he actually laughed. His laugh died when he saw not one, but two birdcages hanging from each door handle. More burnt writing across the wall and doors:

' **Get out while you still can!'**

Next to the words an arrow was pointing in the direction Harry had just come from. If it wasn't for the voice in Harry's head telling him to listen, the same voice that had repeatedly saved him, he would think this was a joke. Perhaps it was. Maybe Kingsley had seen how bored he'd been and decided to create some fun for him. It didn't seem like something Kingsley would do, but none of it made any sense. The birdcages, the notes? Durmstrang had a very strict policy of secrecy. Their Ministry probably wouldn't allow Harry to enter their school for any reason. If anything, they would have sent in their own Auror.

He opened the door and stepped inside. At least thirty beds were haphazardly strewn about, each jutting at a different angle and a few overturned with sheets and blankets hanging off of them. There were more papers on the floor. Some empty food trays, no signs of the food that had been on them. Then he noticed the marks on the walls where misfired spells had struck. So the battle had taken place inside the infirmary? Either the dark wizard and his followers or the surviving students and staff had made the infirmary their safe house. Whoever had been hiding; it didn't seem they'd fared too well.

Another door that led to the nurse's office was open. Harry gasped when he stuck his head through the doorway. There were burnt papers on the floor. The small room reeked of burnt wood and Harry was sure the pile of ashes in the corner had been another desk or bed. Broken potion bottles covered the floor and each step Harry took made him wince as the glass crunched beneath his feet. The remaining desk had been cleared of everything but one piece of paper with a single sentence:

" **There's nothing we can do."**

No sooner had the words left Harry's mouth than the candles began flickering. Darkness. One by one, each candle flickered back to life considerably dimmer than before. Harry's eyes locked on the office door leading back into the infirmary. All of his instincts seemed to kick-in at once. He didn't know how, but he could sense someone had arrived in the hallway in that moment of darkness.

_Crack._

Quiet, but noticeable. The sound was unfamiliar and definitely just beyond the door.

_Riiiip._

Harry's heart stopped. He wanted to run, _had_ to run. Bravery wasn't a factor which could help him in that moment. No, this feeling was feral. Bred into animals from birth to keep them alive. He didn't sense evil, but rather dread and a warning of death, almost like the feeling a Dementor could cause.

Did Durmstrang have Dementors stalking their halls at night? Another defense for the castle? Harry doubted that, but with all the others strange things he'd found so far…

There was a low intake of air, almost a hiss at first. The lingering sound grew to be a slow, hoarse rattle. The hair-raising noise drew out into a low moan.

Harry forced himself forward and stopped just as he passed from the office into the infirmary. Standing against the back of the infirmary was a wizard bending backwards far beyond the norm, his upper torso past the equilibrium point and yet somehow managing to remain standing.

" _Uuuggghrrreeekooaaaan."_

The wizard's upper body straightened slowly, like a puppet raised on its strings. He leaned forward, giving Harry a once over. Then he was moving: his body twitching, his skin and muscles seemingly protesting. Every step a slow jerk. Harry's eyes darted to the wand the wizard was holding. He gripped his own tightly.

Harry managed a step forward to the double doors, and then another. The wizard came closer. Harry's eyes widened as he watched the wizard, he would have to pass him to escape. There was no doubt the man was or at least had been a wizard. But his skin was pulled so tightly around him that Harry could make out every detail of his muscles and every path his veins took; every spasm of energy that brought this thing movement. His eyes seemed to bulge, his lips pulled back into an impossible grin; gums and teeth hideously bright against the rest of its pale body. Each stagger the wizard took wrought small rips in his waxy skin. Thin lines of red became gashes and blood began rushing freely down the thing's legs.

Harry didn't care if there were Dementors in the halls. He scrambled out of the office, nearly falling as he did, and flew to the double doors. He was through, slamming the door shut faster than he'd ever moved in his life. His wand still in his grip, he tapped the door muttering a locking spell. A faint click told him the spell had worked. He wasn't going to stick around to find out if the spell would keep the thing in the infirmary.

_I need to run! But which way had that other thing gone?_

"AAAARRAAAGH!"

Harry didn't think. He turned his back to the direction the arrow was pointing and bolted for his life. Dementors didn't scream like that. Inferi couldn't make any noises.

Something crashed behind him, the ground shaking. His legs managed to move faster. The hallway seemed to stretch forever. The sounds grew louder. No escape. His lungs started to burn. His side was hurting. Suddenly a door came into view and he was through it. His breath came out in ragged gasps. Harry stepped away from the door, his eyes never leaving it.

The smashing noises passed the door seconds later.

At least whatever was out there didn't know how to use doors.

Harry let out a breath as quietly as he could and turned. He gasped, taking a step back. In front of him was a corpse. This one at least looked normal. The wand was still in his mouth where he'd clamped down on it with his teeth. Next to his free hand lay a journal. Harry took the journal and opened it.

The first few pages contained the same information he'd already read alongside scribbled notes about potions and various types of healing magic. Nothing in it said anything about an uprising of a dark wizard. The next page read like a journal entry, and might be all he needed to complete his investigation:

' _Today marks the fourteenth since the outbreak. Even Nina, with all her medical expertise believed it was just a bout of flu. We worked together to create an antidote. She said this strain was different from any other strain she had seen. We set up quarantines as it began to spread. We thought that it was airborne like other magical flus, spread by droplets of saliva or mucus. At the time it was all we knew. We worked hard for a week before we realized the futility of our efforts._

' _The blood is contagious. Just a few drops is enough to spread the disease. If only we'd known. We could have saved so many. We could have sent for help. We could have somehow made this right, but the school is lost. We tried everything. Once the disease takes hold, the infected became immune to magical means. Potions and healing are useless. The infected dehydrated beyond anything we've ever encountered. Their magic seems to leave them as their water does. The person in question loses what senses they have and a few….a few lose their magic in bursts, releasing hulking beasts that are relentless in their chase of the uninfected. We placed bird cages with burned hearts inside on doors as warnings to where the infected are.'_

Harry took a moment to process the words. So doors would not keep the infected in place. And whatever was in the hallway had to have been a result of magical energy being forced out of witch or wizard because of this flu. The whole situation sounded unreal and nauseating. He couldn't quite blame the wizard for ending his own life.

' _This is all we know. We're falling apart. The school, the students, the staff. All of it, gone. I have found no survivors and I refuse to fall prey to this virus."_

Signed; Kristoff Halvorsen, Durmstrang Potion's master.


End file.
